Chapter 64: Advice

Year 2710 of the Second Age, Rivendell

„I am so happy to see you," Galadriel said when Artanáro dismounted his horse in Rivendell and embraced all of his friends in greeting.

„And I you," he returned, giving a nod and a smile to those who stood in front of Elrond' house bowing to him. "Any particular reason to be especially glad just now?"

"As always, it has been too long."

"That it has."

Together with Elrond, they went inside the Lord of Rivendell's study, to have some time in privacy before the evening festivities. "What news from the West?" Galadriel asked.

"Worse and worse in Númenórë again, I fear," he replied with a fleeting look at Elrond.

"Worse then when the usurper was holding the reins of power?" That worried Galadriel.

"Well, not that, I suppose," Artanáro calmed her, "even though...well, does it even matter?"

"Have you, perhaps, been spending time with the Silvan?" Galadriel asked archly.

He laughed. "No, of course, it was an evil deed by Herucalmo and it sets a bad precedent and all that, but...well. His wife was unsuited for politics, as you know, and his son is not a much better at it. Only he lacks the wisdom his mother had to hand the power to someone else – or perhaps he lacks the right person for it."

"Herucalmo was not such an excellent ruler either," she pointed out.

"No, he was neither honourable nor very wise, but at least he was competent, from what I understand from Elrond and others who still go to the island. And when you see that your son will be a bad king, well, is it not at least a little justified…?"

Galadriel gave him a look. To hear such words from him was shocking. "If I believed that," she said, "I would have taken power in Narogrotto, and perhaps even before that. But that, of course, would have meant I had fallen."

He exhaled and shook his head. "No, of course, you are right. I am merely...well, tired. I am thinking of the war. I want to win. I want to destroy Sauron for ever, to eliminate the danger he poses to Middle-Earth. I want...I want to avenge my daughter. And for that, we could certainly use competent Númenórë as allies. We cannot do it without them if Oropher is still unwilling to march by our side."

Galadriel pressed his forearm in silent sympathy and then said: "He is, but give him time."

"Time! But how much time do we have?"

"Sauron is still contained to the East," she reminded him.

"It would not be him if he was not preparing some other trick, as before!" He took a deep breath, and in a calmer voice, added: "You understand why it is important for me to defeat him, do you not?"

Galadriel smiled sadly. "He killed by brother, beloved, and took my realm from me, as well as killing your daughter and Tyelperinquar and many of my people. I have despised him for a long time."

"I know. Please do not think I meant to imply that your wounds were less painful than mine," he implored. "It is only that...I do not have this skill you have, this ability to wait and bide your time. I learned patience from you, and from my father, but perhaps I am still too much my mother's son for this."

"I do not remember you ever making a mistake because you were too hasty, beloved," Galadriel said soothingly.

"Not yet, perhaps, or not a big one at any rate, but this waiting grows hard for me. I was only thinking...Herucalmo would have been a competent military leader." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Lord Laurefindil is not here, so I can say it: perhaps I am listening to Erestor too much, more than the Silvan." He was silent for a moment, then sighed and took an apple from the bowl of fruit that stood at the table. "What news from this part of the world? Cheer me up somehow."

Elrond gave a small smile. "Well, I believe I may have such news," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "If Valar are good enough to allow us all to survive this war, I will be getting married...to Celebrían."

Artanáro's eyes widened, the apple stopping halfway to his mouth, and he looked from him to Galadriel. "Truly? But that is excellent! The best news! How long has this been in the works?"

Galadriel smirked a little impishly. "Ever since you asked me, those centuries ago, what it was that Elrond was keeping secret."

Artanáro put the apple back down. "And you kept it from me for that long?"

Galadriel only gave Elrond a loaded look.

"I kept it even from Celebrían for most of that time," he admitted. "It is only recently that we have reached an understanding."

"He means a century ago," Galadriel said in a stage whisper, and Artanáro laughed.

"Well, yes, but your daughter did ask me for discretion," Elrond defended himself. "The last time she was here, however, she gave me her leave to tell Artanáro."

"In any case, accept my sincerest congratulations, please. Rarely have I heard of a match that would give me as much pleasure."

"Thank you," Elrond replied, looking away in slight embarrassment.

"Why plan the wedding only after the war?" Artanáro asked curiously. "I would understand children, but..."

"Celebrían wishes for time," Elrond explained. "As far as I know, she has not told her father yet."

"No, she has not," Galadriel confirmed.

"Why?" Artanáro wondered. "Does she suppose he will object?"

Galadriel sighed, and poured them all some wine as she thought about how to phrase it. "Celeborn loves our daughter very dearly, and he does not easily become close to many people, as you know," she began to explain. "He feels all the more bound to those he does consider near and dear. He will not like the idea of her leaving, however much he might like Elrond. And Celebrían, however much she loves her father, knows that he will...well, not exactly try and prevent the marriage, but do his best to delay it and make certain Celebrían was absolutely sure. So she wishes to be."

"But surely the Flame..."

"Have you ever known a father to accept that reasoning?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I did."

A flash of pain went through Galadriel, and she looked away. "I am sorry, I should not have-"

"No, it is quite all right, Aunt. But precisely because of this experience, I am surprised at your assumptions about Celeborn. You know I had reasons to be doubtful about Sarnel's choice, but I trusted her to recognize the Flame, and that was all I needed, truly."

Galadriel was still wary of speaking of this, but Artanáro truly did seem to be handling it well, and it was too good a comparison to pass, so she carefully said: "Yet Maewel did not feel quite the same way, did she? You know she did her best to convince Sarnel not to marry Tyelperinquar, and you know Celeborn is more similar to her than he is to you. When something matters to him a great deal, he is not always perfectly reasonable – his biggest failing, as he says – and this, I and Celebrían both know, will be one of those things."

Artanáro considered this, chewing his apple, then slowly nodded. "I remember hearing you mention something like this a few times already. But in truth, I do not believe I ever saw your husband less than reasonable, so perhaps that is why I have trouble imagining it."

Galadriel smiled at that. "Because you did not see him when he learned what Tyelperinquar said about him and your wife. Or, sometimes, when the envoys from Greenwood are particularly pointed in their insults to me. As I said, he cares about the few people he allows into his life very deeply, and does not always react in moderation when he feels injustice is being done to them."

"That, I can certainly understand. After all," he added self-deprecatingly, "you have just witnessed it in my impatience to destroy Sauron for ever."

Galadriel felt he still did not understand, that his kind of impatience was very different from Celeborn's, but she did not have the words to explain it. Perhaps there were no words. Perhaps it was only the intimate knowledge of Celeborn's mind that made it possible for her to understand. Perhaps, as Celeborn insisted, it was a Sindarin thing. Aloud, she only said: "That is a rather different sort of reaction, I believe, but you are correct that it comes from the same place of caring."

He nodded. "I should not even intervene, really," he said then, "Celebrían is your daughter and his, it is only...fathers who try to control the lives of their daughters too much make me uncomfortable. It makes me think of my father."

For a thousandth time, Galadriel felt the injustice of there being so much pain in Artanáro's past. "Your father would have liked controlling you, as well, not only Findoiolosse," she pointed out gently, "only you did not give him a chance. And so with Celeborn: I do not believe that he would have acted differently had Celebrían been a son. He is no Singollo."

He looked stricken. "I never meant to imply he was, I-"

"No, no, I know you did not," Galadriel reassured him. "I am simply pre-emptively defending him. That is my task, after all."

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Avorneth was sitting with Galadriel and Celeborn, drinking wine after dinner. Ealc's regard for societal norms was low even for a Silvan, and she saw little point in social calls unless she personally found the company stimulating or had nothing better to do, so Avorneth often came alone.

"I believe," she said, "that Ealc is finalizing the agreements with different Silvan settlements. The vast majority of people agreed to help in the war."

"This is thanks to you," Galadriel pointed out. "Or rather, to your marriage."

"It is thanks to the revolt Ealc organized," Avorneth corrected.

"Which was because of your marriage," Galadriel said with a smile.

"Well, yes. And you are right – the way the Silvan were before – the kingdom was before, completely divided – they would never have agreed."

"They will bleed for it," Celeborn pointed out.

Avorneth inclined her head. "They are well aware. But he participation in council gave them better appreciation for Middle-Earth matters, and they no longer see it as exclusively other people's business. They even began to travel more again, something Ealc tells me they had not done since the early days."

"What does that mean, early days?" Galadriel asked curiously. "Since they came here?"

"Not quite that long, no. You know the Nandor left the Great Journey because they liked the lands of Middle-Earth too much, do you not? Well, they wished to see as much of them as they could, so they travelled for a long time, moving from place to place, and even after they settled here – they chose the most beautiful forest, as Ealc says – they still rode far and wide to see other beautiful places. It was not until the Enemy came that they withdrew into the forest and began to guard its borders."

Galadriel had not known that, and found it fascinating. A people who were so self-contained now, to travel all over Middle-Earth...it was hard to imagine. "Is that only the case of Lindórinand," she asked, "or were the other Nandor communities like this, too?"

"No, Ealc tells me it was the same with Greenwood elves, and even with the Avari," Avorneth replied.

"The actual, true Avari? The ones who never even started the Journey?" Galadriel had only very vague idea about those, and no knowledge of their culture or customs. She fleetingly thought of her brother. If Ingoldo had still been alive, he would have no doubt already set out East to meet the Avari and find out as much as he could about them.

"Yes," Avorneth confirmed. "They hardly ever came here, of course, but they did often mingle with Greenwood elves to the east of their forest. In Greenwood, you can still find elves who have hair the colour of copper or bronze. The Avari colours."

"Truly?"

"Yes.

"For the first time, I am now feeling deeply regretful that I am not welcome in Greenwood," Galadriel noted. "I have never seen such an elf, and it makes me curious. Have you met them, my love?" She asked Celeborn.

"None that I recall – but then, I expect they will live more in the eastern parts of the forest, where I never went."

"What does Ealc say," Galadriel continued her questioning of Avorneth, "are the Avari very different from the Nandor? In their culture and customs, I mean."

Avorneth shrugged. "She does not remember this herself, she was born too late for that, and the tales do not seem to speak of it. You know what stories are, better than I do. They like telling the origin of things, or great battles, or great loves. Not talk about wedding customs."

Galadriel laughed. "Too true. So, any great battles or great loves?"

Avorneth laughed too, at first, but then she furrowed her brow. "No great battle that I heard of, but there are, in fact, stories of a great love that might interest you. As we have Beren and Lúthien and Tuor and Itarillë...the Avari say they have two tales like this, too."

"Indeed?" Galadriel had not expected that. The fates of those two ladies she loved, she had always believed, were unique.

"Yes. There are said to be two elven brothers, who both fell in love with two Second-born sisters. One of them became mortal for his love, and that made it possible for her sister to take his immortality and become one of the elves. Or so the story goes."

Galadriel frowned at this. "Well...forgive me, but that sounds very much like only a story. Two brothers, and two sisters, it is a little too symmetrical. And an exchange of immortality...you know it does not work this way."

"No, of course not," Avorneth agreed easily. "Certainly not all of it is true, or accurate. But some of it could be, do you not think…?"

"I suppose." Galadriel was still sceptical. "How old are these tales?"

"From some time in the First Age, it seems."

"Hmm. I wonder..."

"What?"

"I wonder whether it is possible that the Avari heard the tales of Lúthien and Itarillë and adapted them."

Avorneth scowled. "But, I mean...in these stories, the elves are neri and the Second-born are nissi. It seems unlikely..."

"You are right. That is strange indeed."

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Because of the approaching war, and the need to convince the Noldor to remain in Middle-Earth, Galadriel came to the Noldorin city more often in the last centuries than she had before. She also frequently needed assistance with envoys and scouts, since the ruse they were playing with Sauron, where they pretended she and Artanáro were too heartbroken to ready any serious resistance, limited what she could do in person.

That, of course, meant also that Galadriel spent more time with Feliel than ever before. Her esteem of her governing abilities grew even higher, but she was also surprised by some of the things she found out.

Had someone asked her but a few centuries ago who was Feliel most like in her acquaintance, apart from her cousins before they were hit by suffering, Galadriel would have named Lord Laurefindil. But sometimes, when she came to visit, she found Feliel in a very un-Laurefindil mood.

On this particular day, the lady was sitting in front of the large window of her house, looking out onto the city, her eyes unseeing. She barely even turned when Galadriel entered.

"What is the matter?" The older lady asked, worried, for Feliel's mind only gave her a very vague idea of wrongness.

"My lady," Feliel said formally, still not turning from the window. "I will not be good company tonight. Perhaps we can postpone our meeting?"

"Of course, we need not discuss anything official. But is there some way I could help you?"

Feliel chuckled without mirth. "You could take the rule of this city from me."

"Do you no longer wish to have this responsibility? Has something happened?" Galadriel stepped closer to her, looking searchingly at her face.

"Nothing exceptional, I suppose," came the flat response. "Just another conflict I was not very successful at mediating. Just another failure as a ruler."

"We all make mistakes. Me, Artanáro, Ñolofinwë...there has not been a king who was without them. We already talked about this."

"I know, and I apologize for bothering you with this again. I told you I would not be good company tonight."

Galadriel sighed. That was not what she had meant. "And I told you I would help if I could, so if you are willing, feel free to talk to me."

"Well, it is simply...like I said, I feel I am not particularly good at this task, and it is not like I have some other talents to make up. I cannot write songs or sing, I cannot paint, I am a bad warrior and dresses and jewels made by me look like made by a child."

"I already told you I thought you were well suited to governance. That is why I chose you for it."

"Not terrible, perhaps, no, but...well, do you not see?" Feliel sounded a little desperate.

"No, I fear I do not."

"I am of the Select!" Feliel exclaimed, rising from her chair and beginning to pace. "I should be better at this, or at something! We are supposed to excel in something enough that the One thought it worth it to give us that ability instead of the ability to have children...it is not enough to be not terrible! You can do governance better, and you are not Select!"

Galadriel put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and intently looked into her eyes. "Do you want a child?"

"No! I simply do not wish to be a disappointment."

"Are you? Is there anyone disappointed in you?"

"I am, and The One is, I believe."

Galadriel gave another sigh. "Do not presume to know what He thinks," she chided softly. "We do not even know if this is the true purpose of the Select. It is simply what we believe." It was true that the other belief she knew of – that of the Sindar – was hardly reassuring. She suddenly realized she had no idea what the Silvan thought. She had to ask Ealc – or Avorneth, since she spoke to her more often. "But even if we are right," she continued, "do you even know for certain that you are Select? I mean, you are not married, and as far as I know, you have not felt the Flame yet. Or have you? Have you and Aseanettë…?" Galadriel had had her suspicions.

Feliel laughed bitterly. "I wish! I had hoped for that desperately at one point. But as it turned out, Aseanettë is decidedly not Select, and I was wrong in believing I felt the Flame. But still...I have liked a few neri in my life, chiefly when I was young, but most of those that ever caught my eye were nissi. If I understand the One's intentions correctly, that means the person I will eventually feel the Flame for will be a nis, too."

Galadriel thought of Lord Laurefindil, and his conviction that only one gender, nissi or neri, could catch one's eye in this way. She wondered what he would say to this. Perhaps she should introduce him and Feliel? But then, there was no doubt about what it was that Lord Laurefindil was so excellent at that he was Select for it. Perhaps it would only make Feliel feel worse. "Well, then, there will be some other reason why the One made you Select," she said instead, in as easy a tone as she could manage. "It might not be completely apparent to you, but His ways are mysterious after all."

"Or perhaps I am just a failure."

"Do not cast the One's plan into doubt, my dear. That would be blasphemy."

Feliel sighed. "Of course. Forgive me for bothering you with this, as I said."

"There is nothing to forgive. I told you I was willing to listen to you. And let me assure you once more, I believe you are doing an excellent job."

If only, Galadriel thought, it was as easy for Feliel to believe as it was for her to say.

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After the council where Ealc announced the overwhelming numbers of Silvan elves willing to fight in the war, Galadriel stayed behind with Amdír and Amroth. She wanted to discuss some matters, but perhaps even more importantly, she wanted to gloat just a little.

"You realize you couldn't have done it without Ealc's help, and without her sitting on the council, don't you?" She asked him.

"Certainly not without her help," he replied, "but then, if you recall, she was helping me even before your intervention."

"I have very strong doubts her help, at that point, would have stretched this far."

"Perhaps not quite this far," Amdír conceded, "but I don't believe it'd have been insignificant."

Galadriel looked skeptical, and Amroth laughed. At her questioning look, he elaborated: "It's always amusing to me how you regard my father as mostly inept at ruling this kingdom."

Galadriel began to protest, but he shook his head. "No, I don't doubt you have more experience and everything, but how can you not see what impossible situations he managed to navigate?"

"Perhaps I haven't emphasized this for a reason," Amdír told his son drily.

Galadriel transferred her look to him, and he explained: "Your disapproval is an uncomfortable thing to face."

"Why'd you believe I'd disapprove if I heard of your impressive governing skills?"

"Because you might not like the way they were employed?"

She only looked at him more intently, so he elaborated: "When I left Greenwood."

"You know leaving Greenwood can only ever meet with my sympathy."

"Yes, but..." Amdír sighed. "I told you that I could have left alone, returned to Lindon and admit I was wrong. Instead, I founded my own realm. That was no accident. It took quite a bit of effort on my part to make that possible."

Now Galadriel was amused. "And you thought I, of all people, wouldn't understand your desire for an independent kingdom? Truly?"

"A kingdom in a forest where the Silvan already lived?" He returned.

Her amusement disappeared. "That's a different matter," she said. "I'll never approve of what you did there, but that had little to do with you leaving Greenwood."

"That's debatable – there are no friendly forests free of elves where we could have settled. But at any rate, that is why Amroth laughed when you mentioned Ealc wouldn't have helped me so much. I met her soon after we arrived here, and I recognized her talent and abilities. I exerted a considerable amount of effort to make her my friend, or at least ally."

Galadriel's eyes widened. "That's why she was so furious with you, personally. It wasn't merely the principle of the thing, it was a personal betrayal!"

Amdír frowned as he considered that. "I suppose she saw it that way, yes. But I truly didn't know she was Str- Select."

"And you believe that was the only reason for her anger with you? Then you've learned nothing," Galadriel told him sharply, and saw him exchange a look with Amroth she did not quite understand. "Besides," she added, "would you knowing it have changed anything?"

"I suppose not." He sighed. "Do you know what I discovered, when I still lived in Greenwood? When Oropher was confronted with so many Select there, and was desperately trying to come to terms with it, to make some sense of it?"

Galadriel shook her head, motioning for him to go on.

"Not only did many Select live in Thousand Caves, Queen Melian actually knew about them."

Galadrie frowned. "Well, she'd have had to-"

"I mean in a more practical sense, not just being generally aware. They used to come to her for a blessing of their relationship."

Galadriel blinked. "But she told me there were no married couples – and how would she keep that from Thingol -"

"It wasn't marriages they came for, no. It was quite literally her blessing. But as for King Thingol, that's my point. I think he must have known, at least a little, at least something. And it didn't change anything for him, not even the knowledge that his wife blessed these unions. Even though he almost certainly knew it concerned some of those close to him. Knowing this, I don't believe he could have not known about Beleg and Mablung, and yet he did nothing. So I'd like to tell you that knowing Ealc was Select would have made me reconsider at least some things, but...I don't know."

"Do you take Thingol as your model?"

"No...but I don't believe I am so much better than him."

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AN: Galadriel, the clueless straight ally and the unknowingly orientalist scholar. She means well, poor thing.